Rated 'L' for Love
by RainThestral93
Summary: Draco Malfoy might think he can treat women how he likes; humiliate and degrade them for the amusement of his peers. But one thing's for sure - when Hermione Granger gets wind of his famous website, where the wizard rates and slates his ex-dates, you can bet she's not going to put up with it! It looks like the Gryffindor bookworm has one or two tricks up her sleeves, as well!
1. Let The Games Begin

**A/N:** So I've had this idea for ages now and I thought it could make a really fun Fic. I'd love feedback so let me know what you think - Beth :) xx

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**Let the Games Begin**

Draco Malfoy ran a hand through his tousled blonde hair, the bags under his eyes bruised and purple, giving him a somewhat vampire-like appearance. The stack of empty coffee cups on his desk beside him were yet another sign that he wasn't getting as much sleep as he should have been.

He had to finish his latest article for his website, though, he thought to himself as he ploughed through the blanket of tiredness that was threatening to consume him. The bright glare from the 27" Apple Mac on his desk didn't aid the stinking headache that he had as a consequence of the teapot that Pansy had thrown at his head when he'd finished things with her, and the amount of vodka he'd consumed whilst he was still in his "wallowing in self-pity because I'm going to be alone for all eternity" phase. But it was unfair to say that Draco didn't have much luck in the lady department. In fact, at twenty-five, he'd already had more than his fair share of women. Some would call him a Player, others, a Womaniser. But one thing was certain.

Draco didn't believe in love. Never had, never would. As far as he was concerned, it was some far-fetched fairy tale fabrication, invented to satiate young girls' overly active imaginations, which dreamed of their Prince Charming coming and sweeping them off their feet.

"Wine 'em, Dine 'em, Bed 'em, Leave 'em" was the motto that Draco Malfoy had followed for the majority of his adult life. The truth was that he was afraid of commitment, just like how I bet most of you are scared of spiders, or dying, or wasps. Draco was afraid of commitment; plain and simple. Getting too attached. Because Draco knew, more than anyone, that the closer you get to people, the more it hurts when they let you go, or let you down. Draco pushed thoughts of his family to the back of his mind, and in a final flurry of fingertips on the key-board, he finished his latest article, and pressed 'Publish'.

Leaning back in his black leather chair, he allowed a sigh of satisfaction to escape his lips. Finally, he thought to himself, it's finished. He allowed himself a final read before bed, and as his eyes skimmed of the glare of the screen, a satisfied smirk began to grow on his face.

**Article Number 53:**  
**Name:** Pansy Parkinson  
**Age:** 24  
**Physical Description:** Where to start? Pansy had platinum blonde hair that came down to her ridiculously fake boobs. I mean, c'mon babe, no one has natural tits that big under the age of 60! Not that I'm complaining – have to hand it to her, the chick was pretty good in bed. Blue eyes. Or were they green? Ahh well, who cares. It's not like I was paying her eyes too much attention, anyway. Someone clearly hasn't mentioned the art of fake tanning yet – babe, there's a fine line between looking like you just spent two weeks in the Bahamas, and looking like a walking-talking Wotsit. Just saying :L best metaphor to describe her? Easy. Living, breathing Barbie doll.

**Personality: **As much personality as a tube of Toothpaste. Thinks she's Paris Hilton reincarnated and her whiney voice drives you mad after all of two seconds. Probably failed all her exams at school – not that I ever asked – and has her Dad eating out of the palm of her hand. A real achiever in life. *Note the sarcasm*

**Occupation:** Works in a beauty salon in Diagon Alley. Not quite sure doing what exactly – never bothered asking – but it figures. Hardly brain surgery, is it now?  
**Rating in Bed:** 7. And that's being generous.  
**Overall Rating:** 5. Irritating, boring and incredibly fake. Decent shag, though, hence the score.

Draco scrolled down his website, a grin across his face. The idea for rating his ex-girlfriends on a website for the amusement of the world had come to him in a pub, a few years back, and he'd taken great pride in going through a very long list of women in order to produce funny and incriminating articles against the women of his past.

Not only were there fact files about each women, sometimes incriminating pictures too, of the women without their make up on, or slouching on a couch, eating a burger. His mates found it hilarious, and they all congratulated him on his wit – of course, they were all sworn to secrecy so none of the women found out and came to murder Draco whilst he slept – and his website was often a time the centre of a joke.

Switching off his computer, and picking up the stack of coffee mugs, Draco switched of the study light, and depositing the crockery in the kitchen, climbed the stairs to bed before falling into a much needed peaceful slumber.

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He had no cares in the world for the feelings of other human beings – and perhaps it was this that would be his downfall, Hermione Granger mused as she perused the length of Draco Malfoy's latest article.

The wizard liked to think that his website was a private affair – but when gossip had begun to circulate, and curiosity had got the better of the Gryffindor bookworm (who worked in the same department as Draco at the Ministry); her intelligence had been put too good use, and it hadn't been too long until she'd come across the site.

Of course, the degradation of women, as well as the sheer invasion of privacy, was enough to make Hermione Granger livid. She could sue him for privacy infringement on the behalf of his conquests – but she suspected that with Malfoy connections she'd only succeed in digging herself an early grave (and severe financial problems). Instead, Hermione Granger deducted that there was only one way to destroy Draco Malfoy's website once and for all – from the inside.

Being on the inside of Draco Malfoy's social circles meant that the Gryffindor lioness was going to have to undergo some pretty drastic alterations if Hermione wanted to achieve anything. But these were changes she was willing to make, she thought wickedly to herself, as she licked her lips. Let the fun begin, she thought, a plan already formulating in her mind.


	2. Old Friends

**A/N: **There's been way more support for this idea than I'd initially been expecting, and I've not been updating because of schoolwork etc. but I thought I'd give it a crack… it's nice to think that my work is original, which some of you have said, given that there's a danger in FanFiction in borrowing and recycling one another's ideas. So I wrote this… and I'd love to know what you think – Beth :) xx

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**Old Friends**

Rita Skeeter balked when she saw Hermione Granger perched nonchalantly on _her _desk. Not surprising, really, given that the girl in question had held her hostage in a jar. But now she'd gotten herself a job at Witch Weekly; the last thing she'd been expecting had been for the bushy haired brunette to come swanning in and announce her presence. Perhaps she would have to inform her secretary about letting certain _people_into her office. She shuddered.

"Miss Granger?" Her tone was sharp, and icy – full of the contempt it was so evident that the reporter held for the witch. "To what do I owe the honour?"

"Save me your sarcasm, Skeeter," Hermione smirked, "I'm here on business – not on choice. I was wondering if you'd be interested on running an expose of all the dirty secrets of Draco Malfoy."

A thinly drawn on eyebrow arched upwards in surprised, interested. The Malfoy family were secretive people – it was hard getting anything out of them. Even if it meant working with Hermione Granger – who the journalist _loathed _– then she was listening.

Hermione continued her tirade, "I suspect you're aware of Draco Malfoy's website, are you not?"

Skeeter nodded.

"Well I won't stand for it. The degradation of the female form – it's disgusting and abhorrent, and I think somebody needs to take Draco Malfoy down a notch or two."

Skeeter smirked – for she herself had had these thoughts, and it was refreshing to hear somebody else voice them, instead of drooling over the blonde and his womanizing ways. Working for the magazine she had to write for the public – and not for herself, which she had done at the Prophet.

"And you think you're capable of bringing Draco Malfoy; millionaire and renowned womanizer down?" Skeeter sounded sceptical, yet this was nothing that Hermione hadn't anticipated.

"If you will allow me to explain," She continued, surprisingly patient with her old "friend." "I intend to alter my appearance so that I bear no resemblance to myself. Then, plain and simple, I'll seduce Draco Malfoy and then tell you everything you want to know about him – then the public will get to see what he's _really _like."

Her permed head bobbed up and down in approval, before the journalist cocked it to one side. "And you think you'd be able to resist falling for the trademark Malfoy charm?" She questioned, dubious. Hermione shrugged.

"I'm in no danger of actually falling for Draco Malfoy," Hermione grinned.

"Why's that?"

"Well I hate him, you see."

"There's a fine line between love and hate you know," Skeeter mused, "But I must admit it does sound like a good plan. Not to mention the massive bonus I'd receive for running such a story…" she trailed off, before rushing, "Of course you'd get a decent cut of the profit for providing the story."

Hermione smiled. This wasn't about the money – for Hermione had been granted a hefty award for her contribution to the downfall of Lord Voldemort, and hadn't worked since. This was about revenge; plain and simple and immensely satisfying retribution. Draco Malfoy wouldn't know what hit him.

"So what do you say?" Hermione asked, thrusting a contract of terms and conditions she'd already taken the leisure of contracting. She knew Skeeter too well to sign anything the witch came up with.

"I say we have a deal, Miss Granger," she smiled wickedly. "This could be quite the story. Where do you think we should begin?"

"Well we need to do research – if I'm to come across as a desirable Pureblood then I'll need to know all about their customs so as not to be caught out. I need a new look as well – your input into that would be much appreciated. I'm not a very good judge of fashion," she smiled sheepishly, as Skeeter surveyed her outfit with evident distaste. "But I'm happy to fund that. If you could just give me any information on the Malfoys you already have, then that would be good."

Rita Skeeter nodded, hastily scrawling the name on the contract, seeing no fault with it.

"This could be interesting," the journalist grinned. "I never thought I'd say this, Miss Granger, but you could quite possibly make my career."

"Thank me later," the Gryffindor laughed. "There's a lot that could go wrong, here. But as long as Draco Malfoy goes down, I don't mind going down with him." There was a wicked Slytherin glint in her eyes – and anyone regarding the witch would never have affiliated her with the innocent, doe-eyed bookworm she had been once upon a time. Shaking hands amicably with the journalist, she hastily hurried out of her office, after leaving her contact details. There was work to be done, and a new look to create…

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**A/N: **It's a bit short but I thought the makeover would warrant a chapter of it's own. Did I get Skeeter right? I've never read a Fic with her in, and it's been ages since I read the books - my memory is a little faulty. Any tips for improvement would be appreciated - Beth :) xx


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